


The Relapse

by PJ1228



Category: Forever Knight
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-19
Updated: 2009-11-19
Packaged: 2017-10-23 04:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PJ1228/pseuds/PJ1228
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The events of "Hunted" have re-awakened the urge to hunt in Nick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Relapse

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Forever Knight and its characters were created by Barney Cohen and James D. Parriott and are copyrighted to Sony/Tristar. None of the characters in this story belongs to me. I'm just borrowing them temporarily. No infringement intended. No profit is being made.
> 
> Acknowledgements: Special thanks to Amy for beta-reading and suggestions.
> 
> Timeline: 2nd Season after "Hunted".

**The Relapse**  
by PJ  
November 2009

 

Nick zoomed in on his target, revelling in the elated heartbeat of the man he chased down the alley. Nick suppressed a hungry growl as he dropped down on him, pulling his arms roughly behind his back and announcing, "You're under arrest."

* * *

Lacroix groaned and rolled his eyes in annoyance. He had followed his child when he had sensed the first inklings of a hunt. Now he gazed from a rooftop down into the alley and frowned upon this anticlimactic end of what had begun so promisingly.

It had been the third night in succession that curiosity had driven him from the studio. Ever since the news had reported about the apprehension of a serial killer whose motivation had been the thrill of the hunt, he had sensed a re-awakening of former pleasures in Nicholas.

Lacroix had observed Nicholas making his arrests in the most unusual fashion. Nicholas would often give his quarries a head start before beginning the chase, just as he had taught him. Yet, it was this dissatisfying ending of each hunt that was driving everyone crazy.

The denial of the reward left a void behind that made its way across the bond to everyone who was close to Nicholas.

Janette had already fled the country out of sheer frustration, leaving Lacroix temporarily in charge of the club.

He, however saw the potential in the situation. This constant self-denial could only be upheld for a limited amount of time. He could sense that Nicholas found it harder to keep himself from finishing the hunt with each passing night. Soon his nature would demand satisfaction.

And he wanted to be there when that happened. He had always found immense pleasure in the sight of Nicholas killing his victims. Once they were within his grasp, he tended to draw out the inevitable to let the anticipation increase to an almost unbearable level. Then he struck swiftly, savouring every drop of his victim with complete commitment to the task at hand. Once they were drained, there was an almost dreamy-eyed expression on his face while he revelled in the aftermath of his kill.

Lacroix yearned to see that expression on his child again. And he was certain that it was only a matter of time before he did. The poor fellow who ended up as the first victim after years of denial was not to be envied. He would probably be torn to threads, Lacroix thought dryly.

* * *

Natalie entered the bull-pen and approached Schanke's desk.

"Hey, congratulations on your latest arrest," she greeted him. "Where's your partner?"

Schanke looked slightly distressed. "Don't know. He suddenly took off and let me handle all the paperwork. Said he wasn't feeling well. He had this look on his face, you know. Like he wanted to kill someone - not literally, of course."

"He made the arrest?" Nat asked, feeling slightly alarmed.

"Yeah, I have no idea how he managed to get past me. We were in pursuit of the perp. Nick was just behind me. But when I turned around the corner, he was suddenly ahead of me and had already tackled the guy. Sometimes he really gives me the creeps."

Schanke decided not to mention the look of terror on the face of their perp, a look he had seen repeatedly when Nick had made an arrest.

"I'll drop by on the way home and see if he needs anything," Nat said. She was getting worried whenever Nick pulled one of his disappearing acts from a crime scene.

* * *

The scene that awaited her as Natalie arrived at the loft was not unfamiliar. Nick sat slumped on the couch with several empty bottles scattered about.

"You better leave," he told her as she approached the couch.

"What happened?" she demanded, refusing to leave without an explanation. "Schanke said you weren't feeling well...?"

"I'm fine now," Nick assured her, sounding anything else but convincing.

"You disappeared in the middle of an arrest, leaving everybody on edge, and now this?" Nat said, indicating the bottles. "Did you get shot?"

"No," Nick shook his head.

"What then?"

Nick regarded her wearily, secretly admiring her persistance and her bravery. "You won't like what I'm going to tell you," he warned.

"Okay," Nat said and joined him on the couch. "I can deal with it as long as you talk to me."

"Remember the case we had last month about the hunter?"

Nat nodded. It had been a woman with a sick hobby.

"It stirred a lot of old memories," Nick admitted. "I guess it set me back a bit. I haven't felt the urge to hunt so powerfully in many years."

"To hunt?" Nat asked, not sure what he meant.

Nick gazed at her, knowing that he would shock her with what he was about to reveal. "You have to understand that we did not just take our victims to feed. It was much more satisfying to hunt them down. The thrill of the hunt added a special element that made the kill so much more rewarding."

Natalie swallowed as she registered the longing in Nick's soft-spoken words. He rarely talked about killing. A part of her was repulsed, but another part of her was also fascinated, even attracted to this dark side of him.

"So, tonight, when you chased the perp, you felt this urge to hunt again?" she concluded.

Nick nodded, turning a haunted expression on her.

"Well, as long as you catch killers, I don't see it as a problem," she said.

"The problem is that I cannot finish," Nick said, frustration evident in his voice. "When I catch the suspect, the urge to drain him becomes almost unbearable."

"But those are urges that you had under control before," Nat observed. "I mean you've caught lots of killers without feeling the need to depart from the scene. Why now?"

He didn't want to tell her that the urge had always been there. In the past, he had often gone to Janette before he snapped. He hated using her like that, but if that was what kept him from killing again, so be it. He didn't think she minded, but he had always felt as if he were betraying Nat when he went to her. So, he had tried to suppress the urge and fled to the loft instead to indulge in his bottles.

"Nick?" Nat roused him from his reverie, reminding him that she was still awaiting an answer.

He merely shrugged and rose to gather the empty bottles, depositing them into the recycling bin.

"Don't worry, I'll be fine tomorrow," Nick assured her, although he was rather clueless about how to get his urges back under control. He didn't need Nat to worry as well.

* * *

Three nights later, Nick and Schanke received an anonymous tip about the whereabouts of one of their suspects. Nick couldn't deny the initial stirrings of renewed anticipation that another chance to hunt was at hand.

Their suspect was hiding in a warehouse. "You take the front, I'll take the other way ‘round," Nick announced and was gone before Schanke had a chance to comment.

Shaking his head, Schanke exited the car and took position at the warehouse entrance with his gun drawn. He opened the door and peeked into the dark interior.

All of a sudden he heard glass shattering and several shots being fired, followed by a terrified scream. Then there was silence.

"Nick?" he called out, but received only a whimpering sound in reply. He carefully moved closer until he discovered the suspect semi-conscious on the ground, his eyes staring wildly. In front of the window Schanke found several blotches of blood. The man on the ground, however, seemed unharmed, except for a blow on the head. Where the hell was his partner?

* * *

Shaking his head in disbelief, Lacroix watched his son flying from the scene after he had received several bullet wounds. Why he did not take revenge on the assailant was beyond Lacroix's understanding. Instead, he sensed Nicholas' ever-increasing hunger as he followed his wounded child to the loft.

* * *

Nick stumbled out of the elevator and made a bee-line towards the fridge. But Lacroix intercepted him, obstructing his way to the blood he so desperately craved.

Without thinking, he opted for the available source and launched himself on his master, biting swiftly into the vein in his neck.

Nick growled with desire as the rich essence flooded his mouth. In his zeal to feed, he tore at Lacroix's neck, burying his fangs deeper into the skin.

Lacroix could hardly conceal his surprise at the unexpected assault. The momentum caused him to lose his balance and a moment later he found himself on his back on the floor while his child feasted on him. He had wished to be present when Nicholas unleashed his beast, but certainly he had not considered himself as the target of Nicholas' lust.

As he felt himself weakening from blood loss, Lacroix began to struggle against Nicholas' iron grip. With effort, Lacroix pried one of Nicholas' hands loose and brought it to his mouth, biting fiercely into the wrist. The blood that rushed into his mouth was the sweetest ambrosia. A heady mixture of fiery passions that was uniquely Nicholas.

Distracted by the sudden completion of the cycle between them, Nicholas shifted his position. A shiver ran through him as he collided with Lacroix's front, astonished to find him equally aroused. Nick let go of Lacroix's neck and stared in confusion at his master. Golden eyes met for a moment and found mutual understanding before they bit in sync into each other's neck, sucking fiercely while their hips ground against each other, climbing unerringly towards a mutual climax.

* * *

Lacroix woke first, finding himself in an uncomfortable position on the kitchen floor. His clothes were torn and sticky with blood. Nicholas lay sprawled across him, his attire in no better shape.

While Lacroix took stock of his surroundings, Nick stirred. The first realization that struck him was the absence of hunger. For the first time in months, Nick felt wonderfully sated. The second realization he became aware of was the presence of his master. Not just in the loft, but close underneath him as well as in his blood.

What had he been thinking? The problem was that he hadn't been thinking at all. He was running on pure instinct. However, that instinct would lead him to a passionate encounter with Lacroix was the last thing he had expected. He felt rather embarrassed and disentangled himself from the man beneath him.

"What were you doing here?" he demanded, opting for the offensive approach to overcome his embarrassment.

Lacroix rose from the floor and replied, "I had come to point out that this constant restraint following your arrests is rather dangerous and will lead to serious harm. But it seems that the point of my visit is no longer valid."

He grimaced as he touched the still tender flesh on his neck, where the deep gash from Nicholas' fangs was still plainly visible.

Nick suppressed a grin at the sight of his master. His usual impeccable attire was torn, knittered and soaked with blood.

"May I use your shower?" Lacroix asked stoically, quite aware of the sight he presented.

"Sure, go ahead," Nick made a sweeping gesture upstairs.

Lacroix vanished with a movement of displaced air. A moment later, Nick heard the shower running.

* * *

"He did it again," Schanke said as he entered the morgue.

"Who did what?" Nat asked although she suspected what he was talking about.

"We had cornered a suspect in a warehouse. I took the front, Nick wanted to go around the back. That's the last I saw of him. There were shots fired, I found the perp unconscious on the floor, there was blood and scattered glass. No sign of Nick. When the guy came to, he screamed about a red-eyed monster. I suppose lab results will show crack in his blood."

"There was blood?" Nat asked concerned, fearing that Nick had been shot and seriously wounded.

"Yeah, several blotches. Oddly we found no bleeding wounds on the perp."

"I'm sure there's an explanation for all this," Nat said evasively and glanced at the clock. "Oh, I've got to be running. I have an appointment."

She grabbed her bag and left Schanke behind in the lab.

* * *

Natalie expected to find a scene at the loft similar to that on her last visit -- or worse. Instead she found Nick on his knees in the kitchen, engrossed in cleaning the floor. Despite the task, his mood seemed rather uplifted.

"Nick?" she asked and stepped closer.

Nick whirled around, wearing an expression as if he had been caught doing something forbidden. Nat took in his stained clothing as well as the blood on the floor and wondered what had happened.

"What are you doing here?" he gasped, upset.

"I'm concerned, Nick. You have a suspect who screams red-eyed monster, you have a partner who wonders about shots and blood on the floor. What were you thinking?"

"I--- I got shot," Nick replied sheepishly. "The bullets are still in me."

"Why didn't you come to me?" Nat asked, opening her bag to search for a pair of tweezers.

"I was a mess. I needed to feed first."

"And what happened here?" Nat wanted to know, indicating the floor.

"I dropped a bottle," Nick supplied sheepishly.

"I see," Nat nodded, noting the absence of glass shards.

Holding a scalpel and tweezers in her hands, she said, "Well?"

"Now?" Nick asked. "It's almost sunrise."

If Nat stayed any longer, Lacroix would be stuck here during the day. And he was not sure if he could deal with the situation. He also hoped fervently the elder wouldn't make an appearance while Nat was still here.

* * *

Lacroix stepped out of the shower and wrapped himself into a towel before venturing into Nicholas' bedroom. A survey of the closet revealed nothing he could borrow for the trip to his home. With a frown he reached for the black silk robe and decided that it would have to do for the flight home.

As he was about to leave the bedroom, he heard voices downstairs.

What an odd hour to receive a visitor, he thought annoyed. He opened the door a crack and recognized Dr. Lambert downstairs, about to attack his son with a scalpel. He briefly considered joining them, but quickly decided against it. If he scared the good doctor away, Nicholas would have a reason to be mad at him. Every advantage he had gained tonight would be forfeit. No, there was more potential in their current situation and Lacroix was determined to take full advantage from it. He had been attacked and used by his child in a way that demanded retaliation. His child would pay in the most exquisite way...

Against his earlier plan, he decided to stay the day. He was still quite exhausted from being nearly drained by Nicholas. So he closed the door and stretched out on the bed, listening in on the conversation between Dr. Lambert and his son.

* * *

"Okay, where is it?" Natalie asked, approaching Nick with a scalpel in one hand and a pair of tweezers in the other.

Nick pointed towards his left shoulder. "There, and there," he said, lowering his hand to indicate the location of the second bullet. When he discarded the remains of his shirt, Natalie stared at his unscathed skin.

"It's already healed," she observed.

"That's because I fed," Nick said sheepishly. The healing power of his master's blood never ceased to amaze him. On his usual diet of cow's blood, the wound still would have been visible for several hours.

After applying antiseptic, Nat made a cut where he had indicated and probed into the wound with her tweezers. After some searching she hit metal and pulled the offending object out. She reached for the gauze she had prepared, but when she turned back to tape it on Nick's chest, she gasped as the wound had already closed.

"Wow, I've never seen it healing that fast. What exactly have you been eating?"

Nick looked slightly embarrassed, but remained silent. Instead he pointed at his collar bone.  
"The second one is stuck here."

Nat repeated the procedure and extracted the second bullet successfully.

"Thanks, Nat," Nick said and kissed her cheek.

Nat regarded him suspiciously. "Are you sure you're all right?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he smiled. And this time he sounded convincing, which was odd, considering his demeanour from a few nights before.

"Okay, I'll see you tonight, then," Nat said and closed her bag.

She drove home with an uncertain feeling in her stomach. What if Nick had completed his hunt? Would she find the victim on her table the next night?

* * *

Nick stepped into his bedroom and stopped in his tracks. He had almost forgotten that he had a visitor. Lacroix lay stretched out on his bed, deeply asleep.

With a frown he returned downstairs and lay on the couch.

* * *

Nick woke to the sound of the refrigerator door opening and found his master standing in front of the fridge, studying the contents with a disapproving look on his face. Nick quickly rose and moved to retrieve two goblets from the rack.

Reaching past Lacroix, he fetched a bottle, opened it and poured. Lacroix picked up his glass and regarded it critically before taking a cautious sip.

"How can you stand this, Nicholas," he criticized. "Especially after..."

The memory of the previous morning caused Nick to gulp down a good portion of his own drink. He had to admit that it tasted even more bland after the rich flavour of his master's blood that was still running through his veins.

"That is the intention, Lacroix," he shrugged instead.

"You do love to torture yourself, do you not?" the elder breathed.

Instead of taking the bait, Nick looked at him smugly. "You of all people should appreciate the rise in anticipation. If I partook of the best vintages on a daily basis like you do, how can I then appreciate a special flavour like yours?"

"I certainly hope you can distinguish between human blood and mine," Lacroix remarked, slightly offended. "Despite my refined taste, I value your flavour above all others!"

Nick grinned at him openly. "You do?"

Lacroix silently cursed himself for letting the admission slip out loud. It had not been his intention to allow his son the upper hand in a debate about their feeding habits. Since backing off had never been his habit, Lacroix willed his eyes to glow amber. "I most certainly do...," he breathed in his most seductive whisper.

Nick's heart beat twice in response to the open suggestion. He fought to keep his own eyes from changing, unwilling to reveal the effect Lacroix had on him. However, he did not resist when Lacroix picked up his hand and raised it to his mouth, scraping his teeth playfully across his wrist in a playful manner. Nick closed his eyes in anticipation of his bite, only to open them abruptly as the elevator door was noisily pushed aside.

* * *

Schanke stepped out of the elevator and didn't believe his eyes as he took in the scene in front of him. Nick wasn't alone as he had expected. There was another man standing close to him. He was dressed in a black robe, while Nick wore his pyjamas. When Schanke had opened the door, it seemed as if the other was kissing Nick's hand, before quickly letting go and turning away. Now Nick stared at him in shock.

"Er, Nick?" Schanke began. The situation seemed awkward and he had the feeling of intruding into something.

"You could have knocked," Nick admonished him.

"Sorry, Nick. It's still early and you once told me not to wake you up because you might have a bad reaction when disturbed in your sleep," Schanke reminded him.

"Why are you here?" Nick demanded. "Our shift starts in two hours."

"You vanished from the scene last night. I thought we should talk about what happened," Schanke explained. Still staring at the other man's back, he added, "But perhaps I should just go?"

"Perhaps you should," Nick said and walked him to the elevator door. "I'll talk to you later."

Upon finding himself dismissed, Schanke almost stumbled into the elevator. After the door closed, Lacroix let out a chuckle and turned around.

"Your partner is quite a character," he remarked amused. "I wonder what he thinks about you now..."

Nick shot him a glare and rushed upstairs to get dressed. By the time he was finished, Lacroix had left.

* * *

Schanke drove straight to the morgue.

"Oh, hi Schanke," Natalie greeted him as he entered the lab. "I dropped by Nick this morning. He's fine. You don't need to worry."

"Really," Schanke muttered. "Did you ever notice anything strange about Nick?"

"Strange? About Nick? No," Natalie replied promptly, while the corners of her lips twisted up in a wry smile.

Ignoring the irony in Nat's reply, Schanke rattled on, "Man oh man, you think you know your partner and then suddenly this. I've figured it out, Natalie. I've finally figured it out."

"What have you figured out?" Nat asked with an ill foreboding.

"I've finally figured out why he's keeping you at a distance."

Natalie stared at him in shock. "How did you find out?" she asked.

"I entered without using the bell. I kind of caught him in flagrante, if you know what I mean."

"In flagrante?" Nat gasped. "You mean, he was about to ---?"

Schanke raised his hands. "I really don't want to think about what he was about to do. But I clearly interrupted something and Nick acted embarrassed in a cute kind of way."

"So you're okay with it?" Natalie wondered.

"Well, as long as he doesn't make a move on me," Schanke shrugged. "You have known, haven't you?" he added more solemnly.

Nat nodded. "From the beginning. You're taking this surprisingly well," she observed.

"Well, it's not unheard of. Especially here in Toronto there're a lot of people with – let's say a different lifestyle," Schanke remarked, sketching quotation marks in the air.

"Different lifestyle?" Nat laughed. "That's a good description. I'm sure Nick is relieved that you aren't bothered. He always has such issues with his nature..."

"Ahem," a soft voice interrupted, causing them to whirl around.

"Nick!" Nat exclaimed. "Schanke just told me that he knows---"

"Would you just shut up," Nick interrupted her. "Please?"

A little stunned, Nat watched as Nick turned towards Schanke and intoned, "You are in need of a coffee..."

Schanke's eyes went blank and he muttered in a monotonous voice, "I need a coffee." Instantly he left the lab.

"What are you doing, Nick?" Nat demanded.

"You were about to commit an indiscretion," Nick accused, sounding very upset.

"Indiscretion? Me?" Nat hollered back. "You are the one who committed an indiscretion! Schanke knows what you are."

"Schanke doesn't know anything," Nick objected.

"No? He said he caught you in flagrante."

"He actually said that?" Nick queried, feeling relieved that he couldn't blush.

"What's wrong with you, Nick? Should I worry about finding bite marks on my next autopsy?"

Nick stared at her, taken aback. "You think I killed someone?" he asked in disbelief.

"I don't know what to think anymore," Nat relented. "One evening you tell me about the growing need to finish a hunt. The next evening I find you healing incredibly fast. Then Schanke tells me that he saw you. What am I supposed to conclude, tell me that!"

"Not now," Nick hushed her. "Schanke's coming back. Trust me, he does not know."

"But ---," Nat began, but stopped as Schanke returned with a cup of coffee in his hand.

Nick immediately walked over to him and escorted him from the morgue. "Let's get going, Schanke. You don't want to give Cohen another reason for cancelling your night off."

* * *

"What's with the Caddy?" Schanke asked as Nick steered towards Schanke's car, while the Caddy was nowhere in sight.

"The engine gave me troubles," Nick explained and took the passenger seat, mentally preparing for an onslaught of questions. He resisted the urge to turn the stereo to CERK. The last thing he needed was gloating remarks from Lacroix over the airwaves.

"So, who is he?" Schanke began.

"Who?" he tried the ignorant approach.

"Your friend," Schanke supplied. "How long have you known him?"

"Long enough," Nick sighed.

"How long have you been a couple?"

"We aren't a couple!" Nick objected.

"But you're dating?"

"I'm not dating!" Nick exclaimed with growing annoyance.

"So this was a one-night-stand?"

"Schanke!" Nick almost growled. "It wasn't anything like that. And I'd be most grateful if whatever you think you saw would not leave your mouth."

"Okay, okay," Schanke raised his hand soothingly. "Nat told me you had issues talking about it. I just want to let you know that it's okay with me. And if you ever feel the need to talk about it..."

"That's just great, Schanke," Nick muttered.

* * *

Despite Nick's assurances, Natalie couldn't stop worrying about the terrible relapse that might have occurred. She desperately needed to hear a second opinion. The only person with whom she could safely discuss Nick was Janette. Although Natalie was reluctant to seek her out, her worry won and she used her lunch break for a trip to the Raven.

She pushed through the crowd of gyrating bodies and made her way towards the bar, searching for Janette. However, the elegant vampiress was nowhere in sight. She began to question the wisdom of coming here as she became aware of curious glances she received from a tall gentleman who sat at the far side of the bar.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked in a thick Hungarian accent.

Natalie recognized him from previous visits and said, "I'm looking for Janette."

"Janette is currently out of town and left me in charge of the club," a smooth voice spoke close beside her.

Natalie whirled around and found herself face to face with the man who had sat several meters away from her a moment ago. She hadn't even seen him move.

"And you are?" Nat demanded in an attempt to appear unimpressed.

"Lucien Lacroix," he replied smoothly.

Natalie gaped at the man in front of her. Nick's and Janette's master. From the little bits of information Nick had provided on him, she had sketched her own mental image of the man who was responsible for Nick's discontent. That image didn't at all fit the almost charming man in front of her.

"I see that Nicholas has mentioned my name," he breathed.

"Nick mentioned that you were back," Nat said, clearing her throat.

"How flattering," he smiled enigmatically. "I suppose that Nicholas is the reason for your visit to this club?"

"Actually there was something I wanted to ask Janette. It's not important," Nat said, opting for a quick retreat.

Before she could withdraw, she felt an iron grip on her arm. "But my dear doctor, how can anything concerning Nicholas be unimportant? I can assure you that I am equally capable of discussing Nicholas with you. In fact, nobody knows him as well as I do."

He helped her onto a stool and looked at her encouragingly.

Nat swallowed. "Fine," she relented. "Nick has been acting strangely lately. I know he has been feeding on something else than cows' blood. Should I be worried about discovering a drained body on my autopsy table?"

"There is absolutely no reason for concern, doctor," he said soothingly. Natalie felt immensely relieved. "Should you find a drained body on your table, it isn't one of Nicholas'. My son is far too experienced to leave sloppy work behind."

Nat stared at him wide-eyed. "So he has slipped back into old habits?"

Lacroix gave her an amused smile. "You could say that. It was about time, don't you think?"

Natalie paled visibly.

"You appear to be shocked," Lacroix observed. "Knowing what Nicholas is, you must have been aware of the inevitability of this outcome… eventually."

Natalie had enough of his gloating. "I guess that makes you happy," she snapped and moved from her seat.

This time Lacroix did not detain her from leaving.

"More than you would ever guess..." he murmured and raised his glass to his lips while he watched her departure.

* * *

Clearly unsettled by her conversation with Lacroix, Natalie headed to the loft. Knowing that Nick was still at work, she let herself in. She searched his cupboards until she found a container with coffee powder and proceeded to prepare a mug. She carried it to the couch and settled down with a medical journal she had brought along to await Nick's return.

"Interesting reading?" a voice startled her out of her wits, causing a splash of coffee to spill over her journal.

"Nick!" she exclaimed, exasperated. Turning around she saw him standing close behind her, his head bent down over her shoulder to see what she was reading. Realizing how close his mouth was to her neck caused her to jump from the couch.

Nick regarded her with a confused look, wondering why her heart rate had increased to an almost alarming rate. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"What's wrong? You scare the hell out of me and yet you ask what's wrong?" she scolded and tried to calm down.

"Nat, you were obviously waiting for me. Why are you so upset now that I'm here?"

"I expected you to come through the door, not to sneak up on me from behind," she said in an accusatory tone.

"Oh," he let out a breath and smiled at her genuinely. "Schanke dropped me off. I didn't take the lift. I'm sorry I startled you. Can I get you another coffee?"

Natalie's mood softened at the sight of his smile and she sat back down on the couch. However, when he reached for her mug, she declined, "I think I'm already jumpy enough; I shouldn't have more coffee tonight."

"As you wish," he said and walked into the kitchen, from where he returned a moment later with a green bottle and a glass. "So, what's up?" he asked after joining her on the couch.

"You said you would talk to me later. So, here I am," Nat stated, looking at him a bit wearily as he poured a glass of blood from the unmarked bottle. "Is that cow?"

Nick swallowed hard and set the glass back down, staring at her incredulously.  
"Of course it is! Why would you think otherwise?"

"Lacroix said you had gone back to human blood. Schanke said ---"

"Lacroix?!" Nick exclaimed wide-eyed. "You talked to Lacroix?"

"I was worried about you, Nick," Natalie explained. "So I went to the Raven with the intention to talk to Janette. That's when he showed up."

"What else did he say?" Nick asked wearily.

"That I shouldn't be worried about finding a drained corpse on my table because you were far too experienced to leave sloppy work behind."

Nick stared at her in shock. "You don't really think..." She'd be insane to come here if she believed him capable of killing again.

"Nick, as I said earlier, I'm not sure what to think anymore," Nat said sullenly.

Reaching for Nat's hands, Nick assured her, "I did not go back to killing."

"That's a relief," Nat replied. "But what did Schanke mean when he said he caught you?"

"I don't know," Nick said evasively, not meeting her eyes.

"And why did Lacroix say that you had slipped back?"

"That's what I'm going to find out," Nick said determinedly and moved to the window. Before Nat could say anything, he had opened it and vanished right before her eyes.

Startled, she stumbled towards the window and stared out into the waning night. "But it's almost dawn," she called out.

Realizing that he most likely wouldn't return before sunset, she closed the window in frustration, grabbed her belongings and headed home.

* * *

Nick landed in the alley behind the Raven and walked towards its entrance. The last visitors were just leaving when he walked down the stairs. He spotted Lacroix standing at the bar, taking notes of the night's income.

"You're late, Nicholas. I was just about to close the club," Lacroix remarked, not bothering to turn around, as Nick walked up to where he stood.

"I'm not here to enjoy the club," Nick replied, irritated.

Turning to him, Lacroix fixed him with a penetrating gaze. "So you came to see me... I'm flattered," he breathed.

Nick became even more irritated as he felt the unmistakable pull towards his master, whose blood he had so recently consumed. Ignoring his rising hunger, Nick demanded, "Why did you tell Nat I had gone back to killing?"

"Mortals are so limited in their ability to memorize spoken words correctly," Lacroix sighed. "I merely implied that you had slipped back into old habits. What Dr. Lambert concludes from this is entirely beyond my influence."

"I didn't slip back into old habits!" Nick objected.

"Oh, but you did..." Lacroix intoned and raised his hand to scratch thoughtfully along the side of his neck, indicating the spot where Nick had bitten the night before.

Not immune to the reminder, Nick fought to keep his eyes from changing.

"It won't happen again," he emphasized.

"And what makes you so very certain of this fact?" Lacroix inquired, genuinely interested.

"What happened was the consequence of me being wounded and hungry. I was kind of --- desperate," Nick admitted.

"And you assume that I would not be able to bring you to this point of desperation again?" Lacroix purred seductively.

"I won't give you the opportunity," Nick said smugly.

"Certainly you did not come here, minutes before dawn, to spend the day in solitude," Lacroix pointed out.

"That is exactly what I intend to do," Nick snapped back and turned to enter Janette's quarters. He kicked off his shoes and lay down on the bed. The lingering scent of Janette's perfume on the pillow brought back memories of other nights, spent in passion. With a sigh he covered his eyes with his arm and willed himself to sleep in order to quell his rising desire.

* * *

Natalie entered the precinct with the intent to deliver a couple of reports. It was an hour before sunset and the shift change was just about to occur. She smiled as she saw Schanke already at his desk. After handing out her reports, she approached him.

"Hi, Schanke. Do you have a minute?"

"Sure, what's up?" Schanke asked and accompanied her into the deserted break room.

"When you said, you caught Nick in flagrante, what exactly was it that you saw?" she asked him directly.

He gave her a confused look, before replying, "I thought you knew?"

"I do," she assured him hastily. "Just curious. You know, Nick never discloses any details..."

"Well, there was this guy, kissing Nick's wrist. He wore a robe, Nick his pyjamas. They obviously just got out of bed ---"

Natalie stared at Schanke, while her mind struggled to come to terms with what he was telling her.

Oblivious to Nat's emotional state, Schanke continued thoughtfully, "You know, with his looks, I've always fancied him the ladies' man."

"What did he look like?" Nat asked curiously.

"The boyfriend? I didn't see his face. He was slightly taller than Nick. Just an ordinary guy, I guess."

Natalie sipped thoughtfully from her coffee. She assumed it was a vampire. Perhaps he was just a friend of Nick's who hadn't made it home in time before sunrise. And Schanke just interpreted the situation wrong. But why would he kiss Nick's wrist?

What if he was a mortal? Nick had once explained to her that he was unable to make love to mortals without draining them. However, she believed his assertion that he had not killed.

She wondered what happened when Nick made love to a vampire. Did he drain them as well? Her thoughts returned to the night at the loft over a year ago, when she had discovered Nick and Janette in a close embrace. For a fraction Nick's mouth had been poised at Janette's neck, before he quickly pulled away when Nat had stepped out of the elevator, interrupting them.

"Nat?" Schanke broke into her musings.

"Oh, thanks for your time, Schanke," Nat quickly excused herself. "I should head back to the morgue."

"I'll let you know if I figure anything out," Schanke promised conspiratorially.

"Do that, Schanke," Nat said and waved at him in parting. 

* * *

Nick woke with a start. His senses told him that it was already after sunset. As he came fully awake, he realized in surprise that his sleep had been undisturbed. This observation came along with an odd feeling of disappointment, which surprised him even more, when he should have felt relief that his master hadn't made a move on him.

When he entered the club, he found Lacroix at the same spot he had left him in the night before, sipping undisturbed from a glass of blood.

"Is something troubling you, Nicholas?" he inquired politely.

Nick merely cast him a dark glare and rushed out of the club to change his clothes before going into work.

* * *

On the drive to the morgue, Natalie made a list in her mind of all the vampire acquaintances Nick had mentioned over the years. There weren't many. While Nick had opened up a bit about himself, he hardly ever pointed out any other vampires to her.

He had once mentioned a computer expert who had helped him with the creation of his police profile, and a relocation specialist who helped them move on, but she had never met either. Then there was Miklos at the Raven. She assumed that he was a vampire, but she was sure that Schanke would have recognized him, since he had visited the club on occasion.

She couldn't think of anyone else. She knew that Nick just didn't associate with his kind anymore. Was it someone who had come to town recently? Whom he knew from years before?

~ Nobody knows Nicholas as well as I do...~

Those cryptic words came back to her mind. "I guess he knows who it is..." she mumbled and turned on the radio.

* * *

"Bon soir, mes amis. Tonight's meditation is about expectations. What can we expect from a lover after a blissful union? Or rather what should we expect? Is it not natural to long for an encore? How disappointing when rekindled desires are met with deliberate ignorance instead of the expected lover's touch... Are you aware of the void that continues to grow inside you? A sensation so unnecessary... For the Nightcrawler is here to fill your void with his familiar presence..." 

* * *

Nick hit the brakes, bringing the Caddy to a screeching hold. His eyes glowed golden as he grabbed the steering wheel harder, struggling for control.

Despite all his efforts to distance himself from his vampiric nature, he couldn't deny the power Lacroix still had over him. A power that transformed into unrestrained passion when Lacroix took possession of him, surpassing anything Nick had ever experienced. He wasn't sure if it was a result of the bond they shared or if Lacroix was just genuinely capable in the art of love-making.

Nick killed the engine and took to the air. Minutes later he rushed into the sound booth at CERK.

"Why are you doing this to me?" he hissed.

"It's always about you, isn't it?" Lacroix returned undisturbed, rising from his seat. "I'm not doing anything to you, Nicholas. It is you who are doing this to yourself. You're denying your body and your soul the very essence that makes you whole..."

"I don't need---" Nick protested, but Lacroix interrupted him, holding up his hand.

"Then tell me what you crave...," he breathed.

"I – I – I ---," Nick stuttered.

Lacroix gave him a compassionate look and resumed his seat.

"Why are you here, Nicholas?" he prodded.

"I'm hungry," Nick admitted in a low whisper. "And ---"

"Well?" Lacroix asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Nothing," Nick mumbled, refusing to give him the satisfaction of admitting how desperate he felt.

"If you're hungry, feed," Lacroix suggested in a bored tone, sliding his glass towards him. "If there is anything else, you wish to discuss, I suggest that you drop by before dawn. As you're well aware, I am in the middle of a show right now..."

Realizing somewhat dumbfounded that he was dismissed, Nick left the glass untouched and turned on his heel, leaving the sound booth without a further glance back.

* * *

As soon as his shift was over, Nick headed to the Raven. The moment he entered, he realized with growing annoyance that Lacroix was absent. The ancient was obviously not at all interested in meeting him. Nick brushed past several patrons in an effort to reach the bar.

"Where's Lacroix?" he demanded of Miklos.

"He called earlier and said he'd stay at home because he was expecting a visitor," Miklos replied.

Lacroix was expecting him at his home? Slightly stunned, Nick nodded to Miklos and made his way slowly back to his car. He sat down behind the wheel, but hesitated to start the engine. He had no idea where Lacroix had taken his current abode. Since his return to Toronto, Nick had evaded him as best as he could, meeting him only occasionally at the Raven or at CERK. Now evasion seemed no longer desirable. Letting out a sigh, Nick closed his eyes and focused on the bond he shared with his master. The signal was strong as ever after they had shared blood so recently. It pulled Nick towards its origin with the precise navigation of a GPS.

* * *

Natalie followed the Caddy at a distance. She wondered if Nick had any destination in mind at all, since his turns seemed more or less random. Finally he stopped in front of a massive iron gate and killed the engine. After she had seen him stepping through the gate, Natalie pulled closer. She made out a Victorian mansion that was hidden from any neighbour's view by high hedges. She watched curiously as the front door opened and a black sleeved arm pulled Nick inside.

Not any wiser than before, Natalie noted the address and returned to her car in order to head home.

* * *

Nick had approached the mansion with mixed feelings. What if Lacroix wasn't expecting him but someone else? His demeanour at CERK and the night before at the Raven gave him enough cause to doubt his welcome. Yet, before he had even raised his hand to ring the bell, the door was opened. The ancient pulled him inside and closed the door with a sharp report.

"Nicholas...," he breathed. "How nice of you to drop by."

"Is it?" Nick scoffed, squirming slightly under the intense gaze with which his master regarded him.

"Definitely," Lacroix affirmed and reached out to place his palm on the back of Nick's neck, pushing him gently towards the stairs.

Pulling away, Nick stepped backwards to put some distance between them.  
"You were less eager at the studio," he observed suspiciously.

"I was in the middle of a show. I did not think another heated coupling would be the solution to your current dilemma."

"And last night, at the Raven? You ignored me all day long," Nick complained, no longer bothering to deny his hunger for his master's blood.

"You said you wished to spend the day in solitude," Lacroix reminded him.

"Since when do you respect my wishes?" Nick blurted. "You just stopped seducing me on a whim."

"On the contrary," Lacroix objected. "I never stopped. I merely changed tactics, which obviously was successful, since you're here now."

"You could have had that yesterday," Nick remarked, clearly offended at the way he had been fooled.

"Of course, I could have," the elder replied thoughtfully. "I could have taken you there and then while Janette's scent lingered around us. No, thank you, Nicholas, I wish to have your undivided attention for what I have in mind..."

Nick's throat went dry as the last words were spoken in a throaty whisper.

"What exactly do you have in mind?" he asked, swallowing.

"You shall see...," Lacroix purred and, reaching for his hand, led him up the stairs.

* * *

Nick eyed the massive four-poster bed in eager anticipation. Their previous encounter on his kitchen floor had been a spontaneous action, brought on by pure instinct. But this would be a conscious step backwards. Was he ready for that? Did he really want this? Lacroix let go of Nick's hand as he stood in front of the bed and moved towards a side-board where a chessboard was set up. He scooped the figures into a wooden box and picked up the board.

Startled by the noise, Nick looked at him, confusion evident on his face.

Chessboard in hand, Lacroix moved past him towards the door, where he turned around and looked at Nick expectantly. "Well, Nicholas, shall we?" he beckoned, obviously intent on returning downstairs.

"You want to play chess?" Nick gasped incredulously, suddenly realizing that he couldn't stand any further procrastination.

"Was there something else you had in mind?" the elder inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"I thought...," Nick began, disappointment prevailing in his voice. He stopped as Lacroix raised his eyebrow even higher.

"I need...," Nick tried again.

This time Lacroix sauntered back into the room, placed the chessboard onto the nightstand and leaned casually against the bed, crossing his arms. "Yes, Nicholas? What exactly is it that you need?" he purred.

Nick struggled a moment with the answer. He contemplated briefly, flinging himself on Lacroix and just take what he needed. However, given his master's odd mood, he doubted the action would be well received. He might end up being denied all together.

Instead he took a deep breath and allowed his eyes to glow, knowing from experience that this would cause a reaction in his master. "You," he replied in a deep voice. "Your blood, your skin, all of you..."

Lacroix had listened without moving a muscle.

"And when you have had all that, then what, Nicholas?" he demanded. "Will you return to your pathetic excuse of a mortal life? Will you continue to deny what you need? Will I be discarded again?"

Something in Lacroix's tone caused Nick to study him more closely. What appeared to be a casual stance was actually a tense posture.

~It's always about you, isn't it?~ his master had asked at the studio. Nick ruminated a moment on Lacroix's broadcast. Had he been alluding to himself?

~How disappointing when rekindled desires are met with deliberate ignorance instead of the expected lover's touch...~

Was the ancient disappointed in him when he came to the Raven last night, effectively evading the subtle seduction? Was Lacroix longing for him? There was only one way to find out.

"That depends," Nick replied and took a step closer.

"On what?" Lacroix asked, the tension in his stance increasing imperceptibly.

"On you," Nick informed him. He reached out quickly, grabbed Lacroix by the waist and pressed himself against him. Lacroix's need was evident. "I knew it!" Nick grinned triumphantly. He launched himself at his master, causing them to tumble backwards onto the bed. Their mouths met in a fierce kiss while their hands roamed over each other's torsos, each endeavouring to rid the other of his garments.

Skin touched against skin and passion erupted into ecstasy as their bodies fused together, reaching a point of intimacy that increased even further when their fangs entered each other's necks.

* * *

Nick opened his eyes and groaned as the memories of the previous hours flashed through his mind. At first he thought it might have been just a dream. But the rumpled sheets were evidence enough to convince him otherwise. The sheets and the naked body of his master lying half on top of him, his head resting on his chest.

Grabbing a fistful of spiky hair, Nick lifted Lacroix's head and pushed it not too gently from his torso before sitting up.

"Is something wrong, Nicholas?" a drowsy voice inquired.

"I don't believe this," Nick said, shaking his head. When no reply occurred, he continued, "You can hardly contain yourself, and yet, you let me humiliate myself, literally making me beg?"

"You can hardly blame me for your lack of control," Lacroix returned amused.

"You could have said something," Nick admonished. "Instead of sending equivocal riddles over the airwaves."

A muscled arm snaked around his chest, pulling him back down onto the mattress. "After all these years," Lacroix purred into his ear, "you are still utterly oblivious to the effect you have on me, Nicholas. I desire you in all your feral glory. The taste of your blood, the scent of your skin, the sound of your voice...," Lacroix continued, accentuating each word with a well-placed kiss on Nick's torso. Nick rolled his eyes at Lacroix's uncharacteristic admissions.

"My voice?" he asked, distracting himself from the destination his master's lips were heading.

"I so enjoy hearing you scream my name in passion," he said hoarsely. Nick gasped as Lacroix's skilful lips began to wreak havoc on his sensitive skin. Panting, he grasped the sheets for support.

"Lucien!" he roared and bit savagely into the offered wrist.

While Nick still trembled in the aftermath of his climax, Lacroix covered his shivering body with his own and claimed his lips in a searing kiss.

"Hmm... tasty indeed," he purred.

Nick's eyes widened as something solid collided with his thigh.

"I told you it would set me off," Lacroix remarked matter-of-factly. Reaching down, he brought Nick's leg up and placed it over his shoulder.

"Lucien, I just ---" Nick began, unsure if he was capable of yet another performance.

"Sssssh," the elder hushed him before proceeding.

It never ceased to amaze Nick to what degrees of gentleness Lacroix was capable if he chose to do so. He soon realized that his doubts were unfounded as he felt a new wave of lust wash through his system. He raised his hips, eager to thrust, but Lacroix held him down.

"This one is to cherish, Nicholas," he breathed and began to move very slowly. Nick willed himself to relax and let Lacroix take the lead, enjoying the sensations as each thrust sent shivers of pure pleasure across his oversensitized skin. Almost imperceptibly Lacroix picked up pace. Their fingers interlaced as their bodies moved in perfect union.

Unable to hold back any longer, Nick grabbed Lacroix's head and sunk his teeth deeply into his neck. An instant later he felt his master's fangs entering his shoulder. Nick sucked greedily from the heady essence while his senses reeled from the explosive release that shattered through his body and which was echoed in Lacroix's bloodstream.

Unwilling to break the connection just yet, Nick tightened his hold on Lacroix and continued to sip for a while until a feeling of lethargy spread through his limbs. With a contented sigh, he let go of Lacroix and sank back onto the pillow. He drifted asleep with a smile on his lips, his last perception being that of a tongue, languidly lapping the oozing wound on his shoulder.

* * *

When Nick opened his eyes, his senses told him that the sun was about to set. He wondered if it was possible to sneak out of the house before the elder woke up. The previous day had been rather unexpected and he needed to sort things out for himself without Lacroix making further demands on him.

After moving carefully from the bed, he gathered his clothes and stepped into the bathroom. When he was showered and dressed, he returned to the bedroom, noting with relief that Lacroix was still asleep. He lay on his back, one leg slightly bent, and the sheet wrapped around him, almost toga-style. Nick's eyes lingered on the sight with awe. He could only imagine what Lacroix must have looked like in his mortal days and he marvelled at the act of providence that had selected him as the preferred target of the ancient's passion.

It had never seriously occurred to Nick that Lacroix might actually desire him. In the past he had always ascribed their encounters to a consequence of the bond they shared. A means by which to take care of each other's needs in Janette's absence. He had always found a willing participant in Lacroix, but he had been utterly unaware of any cravings on Lacroix's part. Although most of their encounters had been instigated by Lacroix, Nick had always assumed that the elder turned to him for lack of other company. Now it appeared that he had always been the focus of Lacroix's desire.

He smiled as he became aware of the power this realization brought. Perhaps that was why the ancient never had let anything on in the past.

Against his original intent, Nick perched on the bed and waited for Lacroix to wake up.

"Are you quite done contemplating your plans for the evening?" a smooth voice inquired immediately.

"How long have you been awake?" Nick asked startled.

"That is irrelevant. Were you attempting to sneak out on me?"

Nick frowned that he had been figured out so easily. "I'm going into work," he announced and watched the look of disapproval shadowing Lacroix's countenance. "I'll see you in the morning," he added, which caused a flash of surprise to appear briefly on the ancient's face.

Unable to resist, Nick leaned down and placed a full kiss on Lacroix's brow. "Have the chess board set up. I might be in the mood to play," he said with an evil grin. Then he took his leave and drove to the precinct.

* * *

Torn between joy and irritation, Lacroix sat up and reached for the goblet on the nightstand. It had been a risk to allow Nicholas to have the upper hand in their relationship. Now that the boy was aware of his feelings, a circumstance that Nicholas might have figured out centuries ago if he had not been so utterly self-centred, he was actually considering having him back in his life. Lacroix was tired of the decades filled with silence between them, which did nothing to quell the craving he still harboured for his son. While an open confrontation had gained nothing except further distance, the admission of his one weakness seemed to be the magnet that drew Nicholas back to his side.

He had observed it for the first time in the loft after he had let it slip that he favoured Nicholas' blood above anything else. Instead of the expected repulsion, Nicholas had offered his wrist willingly. The interruption of Detective Schanke had been most unfortunate.

Yet, despite the promising turn of events, he felt a great amount of irritation. Admitting a weakness was strictly against his nature and he was not in the mood to be mocked about it.

* * *

Nick breezed into the precinct, feeling almost chipper. "Hi, Schanke," he greeted his partner before sitting down at his desk.

Schanke eyed him suspiciously. "Is your mood better today?" he asked.

"Much better," Nick smiled. Then he recalled what Schanke was hinting at. "I'm sorry, I snapped at you last night."

"It was a little more than that," Schanke complained. "You growled at me. I thought you were going to bite my head off!"

Shock flashed momentarily over Nick's face before he replied amused, "Trust me, I don't bite them off."

"Whatever," Schanke muttered. "I take it that your boyfriend is responsible for this mood change?"

Was he that obvious? While Nick managed an embarrassed smile, Schanke continued, "Listen, a couple of guys and I are going bowling tomorrow. Why don't you and – what's his name?"

"Lucien," Nick supplied without thinking.

"Why don't you and Lucien come along?"

"Thank you, Schanke," Nick declined politely. "We already have other plans."

"So, what are you up to?"

It was their night off and Nick hadn't really thought about it. "The Symphony," he replied spontaneously, remembering the ad he had read a few days ago about a string quartet that was touring the continent.

"Uh-huh," Schanke acknowledged noncommittally.

* * *

After Nick had booked off early, Schanke headed over to the morgue, eager to share his latest information with Nat.

"I have an address," Nat announced as he entered the lab.

"I have a name," Schanke replied in the same conspiratorial tone.

"A name?" Nat asked, intrigued.

"Lucien," Schanke provided.

Natalie stared at him in shock. "You're kidding!"

"No, honestly, that's what he said. And how he said it... Made it sound like a caress. I tell you, Nat, he's in over deep with this guy."

"That's not possible," Nat insisted.

"Why? You know the guy?" Schanke asked, as he noticed her obvious confusion.

"I might have met him," Nat mumbled.

However, she was certain that Schanke had mixed something up. Nick hated Lacroix, for all she knew. He would never consent to an act of intimacy with him. Besides, he didn't fit Schanke's description. He had said that man he saw in the loft looked ordinary. Lacroix didn't look ordinary at all, she found, blushing lightly as she recalled her encounter at the Raven.

"They're going to the Symphony tomorrow," Schanke continued, oblivious to her emotional state. "You know, it would be worth attending the concert as well, just for the sake of seeing them. But tomorrow's my bowling night and I can't allow my score to drop if I miss out."

"At Roy Thompson Hall? Grace gave me a ticket from her sister who's unable to go. Perhaps I should stay at home. It might be embarrassing to run into them," Nat said thoughtfully.

"Nonsense. You should go. And then I want all the details," Schanke said enthusiastically.

* * *

Nick made a short stop at the loft to grab an appropriate wardrobe as well as a crate full of bottles, which he stored in the trunk.

When he carried his belongings into Lacroix's home, the elder raised a questioning eyebrow. "I almost hesitate to ask, Nicholas, but are you moving in?"

"Don't get your hopes up," Nick objected.

"That's what I thought," Lacroix remarked dryly.

"Schanke invited us to his bowling evening tomorrow night," Nick informed him.

"Really? I was unaware that the dress code for the bowling rink requires a tuxedo these days."

"I told him we already had plans for the evening. I got tickets for the Roy Thompson Hall."

"The string quartet?" Lacroix asked intrigued. "Very well, that explains the tuxedo. Will I be as delighted to hear why you brought these bottles?"

"I just thought I'd bring my own," Nick stated and braced himself for an argument.

"That was quite unnecessary. My cellar is stocked with the finest vintages."

"That exactly is the problem. I'd rather prefer my own variety," Nick replied politely and began to load his bottles into Lacroix's fridge.

"Has not your recent experience proven the foolishness of your choice of diet?" Lacroix sighed.

Nick closed the fridge and turned to face him, his lips curving into a lopsided smile. "As I recall, you benefitted quite well from my recent experience. Instead of criticising, you should actually approve of my choice of diet, which has been the trigger of all this."

* * *

On the following evening, Nick stood in front of the full-length mirror and fingered his bow-tie into the proper position. Lacroix stepped up behind him, dressed equally elegantly, and placed his hands on Nick's shoulders.

"Hmmm, you do look delicious tonight, mon fils...," the elder breathed.

Nick refrained from returning the compliment. "Ready to go?" he asked instead.

Letting go of Nick's shoulders, Lacroix stepped aside and gestured for Nick to precede him towards the door.

* * *

The hall was already filled when Nick and Lacroix entered their box. Leaning slightly on the railing, Lacroix scanned the crowd until his eyes settled on the familiar figure of Dr. Lambert, who stared at him a moment, wide-eyed, before glancing abruptly in the opposite direction.

Taking his seat, Lacroix leaned towards Nick. "Tell me, Nicholas, would you expect to find any of your co-workers in the audience?"

"In a chamber concert? You're kidding," Nick mumbled.

"I thought as much," Lacroix murmured, amused. "How could you ever stand their company when they share none of your interests, I wonder."

"Don't even start," Nick hissed under his breath when the lights dimmed.

* * *

"That was quite delightful," Lacroix commented after the applause had ceased. They filed out of the hall with the other patrons.

Nick stopped abruptly as he discovered Natalie and Grace in the crowd.

"Nat?" he asked in a surprised voice.

"Nick!" Grace replied while Nat suppressed an embarrassed blush. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was following him.

"Hi, Grace," Nick turned to her. "I didn't know you were interested in classical music."

"My sister has a subscription, but she and her husband were engaged elsewhere tonight. So they passed on their tickets to me," she explained, shooting curious glances at Lacroix.

"Aren't you going to introduce me, Nicholas?" the elder breathed, highly amused at the discomfort that exuded from Dr. Lambert.

"Grace Balthazar, Lucien Lacroix," Nick supplied and rolled his eyes at Nat as Lacroix bent over Grace's hand.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Lacroix," Grace said, clearly stunned by the gesture.

"The pleasure is all mine," Lacroix replied smoothly.

"You know Natalie, I assume," Nick mumbled.

"Of course. Did you enjoy the music, Doctor?" Lacroix asked, turning his attention to Natalie.

"I did," Nat said flustered, while her gaze flickered from Nick to the ancient. They both looked splendid in their tuxedos.

"Perhaps the ladies would care to join us for refreshments?" Lacroix inquired, causing Nick and Natalie to stare at him sharply.

"Thank you, but I have an appointment in the morning and need to get some sleep," Nat declined quickly.

"As you wish," Lacroix acknowledged her rejection with an amused smile. "Perhaps another time. Shall we, Nicholas?" he added, turning to Nick.

Nick nodded.

"Ms. Balthazar, Dr. Lambert," Lacroix breathed with a slight bow, before striding towards the parked Caddy, not paying any heed whether Nick followed or not.

"See you tomorrow," Nick waved at Nat and Grace and hurried to catch up with his master.

* * *

"Who on earth was that?" Grace demanded as the Caddy bolted from the curb.

"He's an old acquaintance of Nick's," Natalie said, deliberately refusing to call him a friend of Nick's.

"Charming," Grace commented, "but kind of chilly. If I didn't know better, I'd say our customers exude more warmth than he does."

"You have no idea...," Nat muttered.

* * *

"What was that?" Nick hissed as he hit the gas pedal in an effort to put as much distance between them and the women as the speed limit allowed.

"Hm?" Lacroix inquired absent-mindedly while he adjusted the passenger side rear view mirror to catch a last glimpse of the two ladies who were staring after the Caddy.

"The invitation to join us for refreshments?"

"I was merely being polite to your mortal friends, Nicholas," the elder assured him.

When Nick remained silent, Lacroix shot him a sideway glance. "I asked them to join us for refreshments, not as refreshments," he clarified. "But it pleases me immensely that you seem to remember similar occasions..."

Nick stopped at a red light and closed his eyes. "Of course I remember," he whispered harshly. "You made sure that I have perfect recall."

He fought to keep the forbidden images from starting to replay in his mind. Those countless soirees he and Lacroix had attended centuries ago. They tended to pick their meals from among the patrons, luring them with casual invitations from the crowd...

A car honking behind him brought Nick back to the present. His eyes were tinged with gold as he crossed the intersection.

As soon as they reached Lacroix's abode, Nick made a beeline to the fridge. Pulling out an unmarked bottle, he yanked the cork out with his teeth and spit it on the ground. However, before he could upend the bottle, his arm was detained by Lacroix.

"Pick that up!" the elder ordered, pointing with his free hand at the cork.

Nick bent down reluctantly, retrieved the cork and placed it on the table. Yet, Lacroix didn't let go of his arm.

"I'm hungry," Nick stated the obvious.

"I know," Lacroix said in a soft voice. "Do not spoil your delicious flavour with that swill, Nicholas."

"I already told you I won't touch yours," Nick remained steadfast.

"Mortal blood is not the only variety I have to offer," Lacroix informed him in a hoarse whisper and removed the tie from his shirt. Returning his bottle instantly to the counter, Nick gave him a toothy grin. Stepping up, to his master, he raised himself up on his toe tips and nudged Lacroix's neck teasingly. Soon his hunger prevailed and he pierced the skin deeply, revelling in the rich essence that flooded his mouth.

* * *

A knock on her office door caused Natalie to look up from her report. She blushed as she saw Nick lingering at the door, remembering her encounter from the previous night.

"Hey," she waved him in. "I didn't mean to spy on you last night," she assured him sincerely. "I was just surprised at the company you were in."

Nick frowned slightly and stepped into her office, fidgeting with his fingers. "There aren't many people around who enjoy classical music and are able to compare the performances with those performed by the composer himself during the world premiere."

Nat stared at him, clearly awed by the explanation. As human as he appeared to her on occasion, comments like this brought the reality strikingly back to her mind.

"I'm sure that is a problem as time goes on. But still, Lacroix? From what you've told me ---"

"We've managed to set aside some of our disagreements," Nick interrupted her. With a sly smile he added, "It happens once or twice in a century."

"Really," Nat stated, unconvinced. "Does that mean he accepts your way of life? Or are you accepting his?"

"I kind of succeeded in letting him see the advantages of my lifestyle," Nick said sheepishly.

Nat gave him a sceptical look, assessing his relaxed attitude as well as the colour of his skin that wasn't as pale as usual.

"It's time for your monthly check-up. Do you mind if I take a sample?"

"Go ahead," Nick shrugged and held out his arm. "I'm curious myself. I've actually managed to cut back on the blood during the last days."

Nat gave him a surprised look. "You did? From the way you look, I would have rather gathered the opposite."

"It's true. I haven't touched a bottle of cow in several days," he stated proudly. "I just wasn't hungry."

"What about human blood?" Nat asked suspiciously.

"Neither," Nick assured her.

Nat retrieved a syringe and wrapped a cuff around Nick's upper arm. After wiping the inner elbow with antiseptic, she slid the needle inside and collected three vials of blood. Then she removed the needle and pressed a gauze tissue on the wound.

"Hold that for a moment," she advised and turned to store the vials in the fridge.

When she turned back, Nick had already rolled his sleeve back down and shrugged into his jacket. Nat stopped his movement, examining his arm closely. Finding no mark on the elbow, she shook her head in irritation.

"I'm really curious to see the results of these samples," she muttered.

"So am I," Nick agreed and brushed his lips against her temple. "See you around."

* * *

Lucien Lacroix stepped out the back door of his house and took to the air. He had allowed his greedy child to take more from him than he had taken in return, leaving him slightly off balance. After Nicholas had left in a clearly chipper mood, he had rummaged through the provisions of his cellar without finding anything that appealed to his palate after the delicious essence of his favourite. There was only one variety that would come close to provide equal satisfaction and Lacroix had no qualms procuring it.

He landed in a deserted park near the lake and scanned the area with his heightened senses for prey. His lips curved into a satisfied smile as he picked up a mortal heartbeat, heading in his direction. A moment later a lone jogger passed without taking any notice of the impending danger. Lacroix launched himself on his prey, grabbing him from behind, one hand covering his mouth to prevent any screaming while bending the head to expose the neck. He struck swiftly, draining the mortal in a matter of minutes.

He took his time to obscure the bite marks with a knife, before discarding the body in the lake. Feeling like himself again, he headed back downtown in order to spend the remainder of the night at the Raven.

* * *

Natalie closed her notebook, shaking her head in frustration. She put the book along with a couple of prints into a drawer and secured the lock. Then she picked up the phone.

"Hi, I'm either in bed or incommunicado. Leave a message..."

Rolling her eyes, Nat waited for the beep before speaking, "Your results are in, Nick. Come by if you're interested in them."

"What's up, Nat?" a voice spoke from behind her.

Natalie froze for a moment before returning the receiver to the cradle. Taking a deep breath, she turned towards Nick.

Nick had just entered her office when she left the message on his answering machine. He was slightly astonished about the coldness he perceived in her voice.

Giving him an irritated glare, Nat reopened her drawer and pulled out the prints, spreading them out in front of Nick.

Pointing out selected figures to him, she explained, "Your B and T cells are uncharacteristically high, your aPTT is incredibly low, in other words, your blood has reverted to the state it was in before we started any form of treatment."

"Oh," Nick breathed.

"Is that all you're going to say?" Nat demanded, crossing her arms before her chest.

"What do you want to hear?" Nick asked wearily.

"An explanation? How is that possible when you keep assuring me that you haven't touched human blood and even cut back on cow? You don't make a starved impression on me."

And he certainly didn't feel starved with the rich essence of his master flowing in his veins. Not meeting her eyes, he mumbled, "I may have ingested a bit of Lacroix's blood."

"Lacroix's blood?" Nat repeated wide-eyed. "What did you do that for?"

"That doesn't matter," Nick said evasively. "You know how hungry I was. His blood managed to calm me to a point that I don't crave anything else. You can't imagine what a relief it is to be not constantly tempted by the mortals around me."

"O yeah? And what does Lacroix eat?" Nat scoffed.

Nick turned his head away, not meeting her eyes. He knew his master had killed the night before. He had tasted it and he had revelled in the experience like savouring a forbidden fruit. Of course he had been upset afterwards, but Lacroix had made it perfectly clear that he wouldn't change his dietary habits for Nicholas' sake. Nick had successfully pushed the incident from his mind for the remainder of the day until Natalie had brought it up again.

When he looked back at her, his eyes were full of anguish.

"That's what I thought," Nat concluded from his silence. "Ever heard of complicity?"

"There isn't much I can do about that," Nick mumbled, defeated.

"I don't care what you do during the day, Nick," Natalie said. "But it might be a good idea to stop drinking his blood."

Nick stared at her askance. "You don't know what you're asking."

"Of course I don't know," Nat returned. "Since you don't talk to me. All I get are vague assumptions from Schanke. And I'm not ready to believe his conclusions."

For the second time Nick was glad he couldn't blush. "I need to go," he stated flatly and vanished as swiftly as he had come.

* * *

Lucien Lacroix locked the Raven and took to the air. Tonight, Nicholas had not come to the club as had become his habit during the last couple of nights. A search led Lacroix to the loft where he found Nicholas slumped in his armchair, staring at the cold fireplace. Lacroix raised an eyebrow when Nicholas neither stirred nor acknowledged him after he had landed a few feet from him.

"Is something the matter, Nicholas?" he inquired carefully.

He was taken aback by the sad expression on Nicholas' face when he turned to look at him.

"I can't do this anymore, Lucien," Nicholas whispered.

Something froze inside Lacroix. "What precisely is it that you cannot do anymore, Nicholas?" he asked stoically.

"This," Nick replied, gesturing from him to Lacroix. "It's wrong. I can't continue taking your blood."

"And what has led you to this ridiculous conclusion?" Lacroix demanded.

"Nat said I've reverted back. My blood work is all wrong," Nick lamented.

"It is called healthy, Nicholas," Lacroix corrected him, slowly but gradually losing his patience. Certainly he couldn't be losing his child again over this scientific nonsense?

"It might have worked out if you hadn't killed the man," Nick accused him directly.

It was so like Nicholas to feel guilty about some dead mortal whom he had neither touched nor known. Why was it that his son's guilt was always directed at mortals? Wasn't his behaviour towards him so much crueller than anything he could have inflicted on a mortal? And yet there wasn't the slightest hint of remorse in Nicholas when he announced the end of their relationship.

"I thought we had a deal. I do not interfere with your dietary habits and you do not interfere with mine," Lacroix reminded him. "What are you really concerned about, Nicholas? The fact that a mortal departed this world a few years earlier than was his due or that you enjoyed it as much as if it had been yourself who dispatched him?"

Nick turned away from him abruptly.

"I thought as much," Lacroix concluded. "You're deluding yourself, Nicholas. Turning away from me does not cure you from what you are. On the contrary, it will merely deepen your desires. One day your nature will demand its due and then you are going to kill again. Mark my words, Nicholas, one day you will regret this decision after some trusting mortal has died in your arms..."

Nick turned back to deny his words, but the ancient was gone. Unable to suppress a shudder at the image Lacroix's prophecy had provoked, he crossed to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of cow's blood.

Back to square one, he thought grimly. He couldn't allow for another relapse. He desperately needed Nat to find the cure before he killed her or Schanke.

* * *

Lacroix landed smoothly in front of the morgue and entered, unnoticed. He found his quarry in the lab with her back towards him, absorbed in reading a report. She had fastened her hair in a bun, allowing unrestricted access to her neck. How convenient, he thought as he moved closer, teeth extended. Rarely had he encountered a mortal more irritating than her. If it hadn't been for her intervention, Nicholas would be lying contentedly in his arms now. However, through her meddling, his son had suffered another relapse. No one meddled in his affairs! He would take his revenge and remove this mortal once and for all. While he bent down towards the neck, a second thought occurred to him.

Although he had every right to kill her, Nicholas would not agree with his reasoning. In fact, the deed could drive his son away forever. Straightening, Lacroix regarded the unsuspecting mortal thoughtfully. He needed a reason to take her life that allowed Nicholas no room for objection.

A cold smile curved his lips. If he was patient enough, a situation should arise that resolved the matter without any intervention on his part at all. Judging from his own observation, the mortal had the potential to rouse Nicholas' desires. Consequently, his son would either kill her himself in a bout of passion or he would express his love for her. In the latter case he would be entitled to take the mortal in accordance with an older agreement that even Nicholas couldn't deny.

Either way, the mortal's days were numbered. And then Nicholas would be his again...

Bending down towards Natalie's neck again, he blew softly against her skin.

Feeling a sudden cold breeze that caused the hair on the back of her neck to rise, Natalie whirled around, but the lab was empty.

* * *

"Good evening, children of the night. A relapse is a repeated detour from the course that nature has defined for us. Fortunately, it is supposed to be a temporary condition. There is always something that pulls you back upon the wagon. Either the voice of reason or some horrific incident brought on by yourself when nature demands its due. That is the law of your existence, as irrefutable as the Nightcrawler's presence on air, waiting to share himself with you..."

FIN


End file.
